


So We Remain The Same

by sunshinexbomb



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious Nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Didn’t mean to yell,” Alex says a bit gruffly when he sits back down next to him. “Just worry about you sometimes.”</p><p>“You don’t have to worry about me,” Nicky says, softly.</p><p>“Maybe not,” Alex says with a shrug, “but I always do.”</p><p>--</p><p>Or two times Nicky yells at Alex, two times Alex yells at Nicky, and one time they don't have to yell at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So We Remain The Same

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this more than a month ago after the release of Nicky's Nystrom article and his quote where he said, "[Ovi’s] the guy I’ve yelled at the most...and I’m the guy he’s yelled most at too. We’ve had real arguments on the bench where we have stood and barked at each other." and I thought "I need a fic that's just about them yelling at each other". I guess this is sort of that.
> 
> Thank you [Mel](http://delaglace.tumblr.com/) and [Nicole](http://hockeycaptains.tumblr.com) for looking this over, and also thanks Nicole for both the actual title and the alternate title, "we scream and we shout and make up the same day". 
> 
> I took some liberties with timeline stuff so this doesn't follow events in any specific season. This is clearly fictional - I am not affiliated in any way with the NHL, and if you are, you probably should turn away. Title is from Florence + The Machine's "Kiss With a Fist".

**one**

They're halfway through the second period and two goals behind when Nicky finally snaps. Alex is off his game, sluggish and clumsy on his skates. He turned over the puck during both of their last couple of shifts, costing them a goal once and almost costing them a second if it wasn't for Holts and his quick thinking.

When they’re back at the bench after the shift change, Nicky shoves Alex just hard enough to be forceful, but not so hard that it would warrant attention from the others. “What is wrong with you?” Nicky hisses, trying to keep his voice down. He’s not above raising his voice, never has been when it comes with Alex, but he also knows that sometimes it’s better to try and stay calm.

Alex glares, eyes steely even under his visor. “Nothing wrong. ‘M fine.”

He's obviously _not_ fine. Nicky knows how Alex plays when he's fine, and it's nowhere near this clumsy, this messy. Nicky’s seen Alex at his best, scoring highlight reel goals and he’s seen Alex when he’s in a slump, trying his hardest but still somehow missing the mark every time. This is neither of those - this is pure _lazy_ at best.

“You're not fine. Need to get your head out of your ass and back into the game,” Nicky snaps, failing to keep his voice steady this time. “There’s no reason for us to be behind like this, and you need to pull your weight.”

Nicky's tired, they're all tired. There's no way they wouldn't be after a road trip this long, after so many back-to-backs. But there's a difference between Alex being tired and one of the boys from the fourth line being tired. If Alex is tired, he can't show it. There's a reason he has the C, there's a reason everyone follows his lead. Alex can't be off his game, because it means everyone else is off their game too.

Alex is still glaring, eyes furious, face a bit pink. “Think I’m not playing hard enough?”

“You’re not,” Nicky says flatly.

Alex is the one to shove first this time, knocking their shoulders together too forcefully for it to be playful. He looks like he's going to retort, but then pauses when he sees something over Nicky's shoulder. Nicky turns, spotting Willy and Latts with their heads bowed, whispering about something. Their eyes widen when they catch Nicky staring, looking away guiltily. Maybe Nicky had been speaking louder than he thought.

“Can't let children think Mama and Papa are fighting,” Alex says instead, making Nicky snort.

“Parents wouldn't be fighting if Mama was skating right.”

Alex elbows Nicky in the ribs like the child he is, making Nicky yelp, but he doesn't have time to respond before they're getting ready for the shift change.

When they hit the ice, it's with a new sense of vigor. Alex seems more alive than he has the whole game, speedy and aggressive like usual. The first hit he makes is enough to get the arena erupting in jeers, but it’s enough for Nicky to get the puck and set up the play. And after that, things finally click into place. When Nicky sees an opening, his pass to Alex is clean, puck hitting right on his tape.

It only takes a second for Alex to score, finally getting them on the board, and as soon as he does, he's jumping into Nicky's arms, patting his helmet with enthusiasm and making Nicky’s heart race with what Nicky always tries to pass off as thrill and adrenaline.

 

**two**

Nicky’s migraines, well, he’s not going to lie - they’re honestly awful. There’s nothing fun about the sharp pain in his temple and how even the dimmest lights seem to add to the steadily building pressure. But worst of all, it means he has days when he wakes up, and realizes that there’s no way he’ll be making it onto the ice.

When Nicky’s alarm goes off and the sound seems to reverberate inside his head, he knows it’s going to be a bad day. Luckily, there’s no game that night, but they have practice at Kettler, and Nicky supposes if he can get himself out of bed, he can get himself to the rink.

He makes it, but just barely, already feeling dizzy by the time he’s putting on his practice gear. Nicky doesn’t even get onto the ice before he realizes that it’s just not happening today. He gets to the rink and everything is _bright_ , the lights and the white of the ice, and it’s too much all at once. His head is pounding and he’s dizzy and he has no choice but to head back with the medical staff who give him a few aspirin and send him straight back home.

Nicky bumps into Alex in the locker room, and Alex face turns down in a deep frown when he realizes Nicky’s changed back into his street clothes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Not practicing today?”

“Migraine,” Nicky explains simply, and it only makes Alex’s frown deepen.

“Should not come to practice if you have migraine,” Alex says, not for the first time. “Nicky, you know this. Need to take care of yourself.”

“I know,” Nicky snaps. His voice isn’t very loud, but it’s harsh, mostly out of frustration. He deflates almost immediately partly because of the pressure building in his head again and partly because of the sting of guilt he feels at Alex’s wounded expression. “Sorry. Just - tired. Gonna go home.”

“Get some rest,” Alex says, squeezing Nicky’s waist. Nicky tries not to pay attention to how it makes his heart jump a little. He’s feeling bad enough already - there’s no need to throw in his confusing emotions about Alex on top of things.

“Yeah,” Nicky mumbles, averting his eyes from Alex’s concerned face.

When he gets home, Nicky collapses in bed, darkening his room with his blackout curtains, and sleeps for hours. He wakes up to his phone buzzing with post-practice messages in the team group chat, but ignores them. His migraine’s eased a bit, but he still doesn’t feel a hundred percent, and there’s no use worrying about the light of his phone screen if he doesn’t have to. Instead he busies himself with making a strong cup of tea, even though what he could really use is a few more hours of sleep if he’s being honest with himself.

Nicky’s just curled up on the couch with his tea when there’s a knock at the door. Nicky wrinkles his nose in confusion. He’s not expecting company, and yet, somehow he’s not surprised to find Alex on the other side of the door.

“What are you doing here?” Nicky asks flatly.

Alex looks good, dressed soft and comfortable in his sweats and t-shirt, hair still wet from his shower. He smiles wide, despite the fact that Nicky’s clearly not amused by his presence. He usually likes to be left alone when his migraines hit, and as much as he usually loves Alex’s company, there’s no denying that he can be _loud_ when all Nicky wants at a time like this is quiet.

“Came to see if you’re okay,” Alex says, inviting himself in.

Nicky looks at Alex more closely, noticing the tightness in his smile and the tension in his shoulder that he missed at first. There are few people that know Alex better than Nicky does. He’s used to reading Alex’s body language on the ice - it’s what helps them work together so easily. Nicky always knows when Alex is ready for a pass or how he needs to set up the next play. Over the years, that easy way they read each other has shifted off the ice too, and one day, Nicky realized it’s become second nature for him to notice the slight changes in Alex’s facial expressions and to pick up his mood just from the cadence of his voice or the posture of his body. Right now he can tell that there’s something setting him on edge, even if he’s trying to keep himself collected on the outside.

Nicky leads him farther inside, curling back into himself on the couch, and frowning when he realizes his tea’s not as hot as he likes it anymore. He doesn’t press even though he knows from the way that Alex can’t seem to sit still next to him that he has something on his mind. If he wants to share, he will.

After a few sips of his too-cold tea and a stretched seconds of tense silence, Alex finally blurts out rather loudly, “Nicky very stupid, trying to come to practice with migraine.”

“Didn’t think it was that bad when I woke up in the morning,” Nicky says, with a sigh. It’s not exactly a lie. He knew it would probably be bad, but he did underestimate exactly _how_ bad.

“Bullshit,” Alex says with a glare. “You always know when is bad. Not like this is your first migraine. Shouldn’t have come to practice.”

Nicky can feel his irritation prickle under skin, setting in more easily with his already bad mood and his headache returning again. He doesn’t know why Alex is making such a big deal about this right now. “Nothing happened, Alex. I’m okay.”

“Still, stupid. Need to take care of yourself,” Alex says, voice angry. “Don’t want you getting hurt at practice.” He’s not yelling, exactly, but it’s something close, something that’s too much considering this isn’t even a big deal. Nicky has a feeling he’s mainly keeping his voice down just to spare Nicky’s head.

“I can take care of myself,” Nicky says, matching Alex’s glare with one of his own.

“Obviously not.”

Nicky resists the urge to roll his eyes, grabbing at his tea and making to get up before Alex is pushing him back on the couch again, gently but with enough force to make sure he actually stays down. “What you need? I’ll get it.”

“I was just going to make more tea. I can do it myself, Alex.”

“No, sit. I’ll make tea,” Alex says, grabbing Nicky’s mug off the table and heading towards the kitchen.

Nicky lets him, if only because he knows it’s good to give Alex a few minutes to himself, to let him calm down from - whatever this is. He’s not going to deny that it’s a bit nice having Alex’s attention like this. Nicky doesn’t particularly like being doted on, but it’s Alex, and annoying as it is, Nicky can’t pretend he doesn’t feel something warm in his belly at the thought that Alex came all this way just to check on him.

When Alex comes back he seems a bit calmer, and he hands Nicky his tea quietly. It’s perfect, just the right temperature and Nicky wonders when it was that Alex learned exactly how he likes his tea.

“Didn’t mean to yell,” Alex says a bit gruffly when he sits back down next to him. Nicky has his feet up on the couch, and Alex wraps a hand around his ankle easily, rubbing his thumb over the bone absent-mindedly like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Nicky hopes he can pass the heat rising slowly to his face off to the warmth of his tea. “Just worry about you sometimes.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Nicky says, softly.

“Maybe not,” Alex says with a shrug, “but I always do.”

Nicky blushes again and tries to hide his growing smile behind his mug.

Alex stays a while longer, and they watch TV with the volume down low. Nicky ends up falling asleep again, comfortable with tea warm in his belly and his feet in Alex’s lap. When he wakes back up it’s to a blanket thrown over him, the TV off and his mug washed and put away. Alex is gone, but there’s a text on Nicky’s phone that says _feel better for practice tomorrow no more stupid nicky ))))_

This time, Nicky does roll his eyes, but it’s with a smile.

 

**three**

Nicky can count Alex’s career fights on one hand, and half of them happened before he was even on the team. But, the thing is, that doesn’t mean Alex is above getting stupid penalties when his temper gets the better of him. It happens to everyone, and Nicky knows that, but that doesn’t mean he’s not furious when Alex gets a penalty on his behalf.

They’re playing against the Flyers, and a dirty hit from Schenn sends Nicky down the tunnel and keeps him there. He’s okay mostly, but his hip had hit the boards at an awkward angle, and the trainers want to keep him off the ice for the rest of the game as a precaution. He gets a few flares of pain depending on how he moves, and he’s just grateful it wasn’t anything worse.

The boys on the medical team patch Nicky up well enough, and he showers and gets changed during the intermission, making his way up to the press box and sidling between Latts and Chorns during the third.

“You okay, Papa? That looked brutal,” Latts says with a small wince, and Nicky manages a smile, squeezing Latts’s shoulder in reassurance.

“I’m okay. They just want to be careful for tonight.”

They watch as Kuzy takes the first puck drop against Giroux, but Nicky’s eyes are trained on Alex and the tension in his shoulders as Schenn whispers something to him before they’re setting up for the next faceoff. Alex isn’t easy rattled, not on the ice, which is why Nicky’s on his feet, blood pounding in his ears the moment Alex’s stick makes contact with Schenn’s face and the whistle blows again, sharp and clear even over the noise of the crowd.

“Jesus Christ,” Chorn swears, “what the fuck is Ovi doing?”

Alex gets a double-minor and Nicky sits watching the penalty kill with his fingernails digging into his palms, swearing louder than Chorns when the Flyers actually manage to capitalize on the advantage and tie up the game.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Nicky says, surprising even himself with his steady voice and even tone.

“Fucking Giroux,” Latts says, his fists clenched just like Nicky’s had been as they watch him receiving congratulations for the goal down by the Flyers bench, but Nicky shakes his head.

“Not Giroux. I’m gonna kill Alex.” Nicky doesn’t miss the surprised look Latts and Chorns give each other, but he pointedly ignores it.

They’re quiet for the majority of the rest of the game, sans the occasional swears and outbursts during bad calls and the frustration as the Flyers sneak the puck in past Holts during a rebound and take the lead with just a couple minutes left on the clock. Nicky can feel the pressure of a stress headache building, because this isn’t a loss built just on bad officiating and lucky shots, it’s a loss built on sloppy plays and stupid penalties and it’s not _acceptable_ this deep into the season.

Nicky and the rest of the scratches head down to the locker room, which predictably has the somber, quiet mood of a bad loss. Some of the boys are in the middle of their media scrums, including Alex who has the blank expression he usually dons when there’s a microphone shoved in his face after a loss, so Nicky busies himself answering questions from his teammates who come up and ask about his hip in varying degrees of distress.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Andre asks in Swedish for what seems like the hundredth time, but Nicky just rolls his eyes, mussing up his hair and laughing at his squawk of protest.

“ _Ja,_ it’s alright.”

Even without the excited buzz of a win, Nicky feels better just being back in the locker room. It’s filled with the usual post-game hum, now, as the media starts to filter out and the boys relax and start to head out themselves. Nicky hangs around a bit, patiently answering some of Kuzy’s questions about his play that night and keeping his eye on Alex who’s the last to finish up with the reporters and head into the showers. Alex doesn’t say anything to him, doesn’t even look at him, and honestly, Nicky’s glad so he has time to push back a bit of his anger.

Alex is still quiet when he gets out of the shower, but he doesn’t seem surprised that Nicky’s the only one in there, sitting by his stall and scrolling through his phone with feigned indifference. Now that it’s just the two of them, Nicky can feel his frustration rearing again, and by the time Alex is done getting dressed and packing up his gear, Nicky realizes that he’s read the same tweet on his phone almost five times.

“Okay, Nicky. Tell me what you have to say,” Alex finally says, breaking the tension of the room. He’s standing there with his arms crossed, looking at Nicky expectantly, a hard set to his face like he’s bracing himself for what’s coming next.

“What I have to say?” Nicky splutters out. “What do you have to say? What got into you? You know we can’t take stupid penalties like that. Whatever you were trying to do, it’s not _worth_ it -”

“Schenn said stupid thing, got under my skin,” Alex says trying to keep his voice even, and it only makes Nicky’s temper flare more. “It happens.”

“Be honest, was it because of the hit?” Nicky asks, telling himself it’s not presumptuous to think so. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

A flicker of guilt crosses Alex’s face, but it’s gone quickly. “Not completely. Also because of what he said about you after.”

“You don’t need to - to protect me -” Nicky says, the English feeling thick on his tongue in a way it rarely ever does. His voice is loud, reverberating off the empty walls of the locker room, but Nicky feels like he can barely hear it past the rushing noise in his ears. “Alex, you cost us the game and it’s not fair to anyone else on this team. I’ve told you before, I can take care of myself.”

“I am sorry about loss. I know it was stupid,” Alex says, his own frustration leaking through clearly through the furrow of his brow and the way he pinches the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “But don’t regret what I did. Schenn is a piece of shit, he shouldn’t have said what he did.”

“Alex, I’m not worth a penalty like that -”

Alex’s anger betrays him for the first time, his eyes sharp and almost steely, but his movement is surprisingly calm as he makes his way towards Nicky. He doesn’t stop until Nicky’s boxed in with his back pressed against the dividers of the stalls and Alex’s chest pushed up against his. Nicky feels his breathing quicken, even though it feels like he’s been winded, his lungs tight in his chest.

Alex’s hands are warm, one of them placed gently on Nicky’s hip, the other tilting his chin up slightly to meet his eyes. “Worth it to me.”

Nicky gasps when Alex presses their mouths together. The kiss isn’t soft, their noses bumping almost painfully from the roughness of it. Alex’s beard burns across Nicky’s cheek, but he keeps pressing himself closer, letting Alex pull him in by his hip, and not complaining when Alex pushes against the seam of Nicky’s mouth with his tongue. For now, Nicky lets himself have this.

His mind seems to catch up with when Alex starts to move from his mouth to the curve of his jaw, and he pushes Alex away. “What are you doing?” Nicky asks, voice rough. They’re both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling rapidly.

Alex traces his fingers down Nicky’s jaw, tilting his chin up for a softer kiss. “Just - want you. Want to make sure you’re okay.”

Nicky lets Alex kiss him, slowly at first and then harder when Nicky starts to kiss back. He can’t seem to help it - Nicky turns to absolute putty under Alex’s touch. It’s hard to focus on his confusion when, after so long, he’s at least getting part of what he’s always wanted.

A part of him knows this is a bad idea, but an even bigger part doesn’t want to stop.

 

**four**

It happens again. Alex kisses him once more in the locker room, but it’s different this time, with the both of them smiling after an exhilarating shutout win against the Rangers on home ice. Nicky accepts Alex’s mouth more readily, relaxing under the feel of big hands on his waist and soft lips against his neck. Maybe it’s not exactly the way he’s thought about having Alex, but it’s not - it’s not _bad_ , and Nicky can accept it like this.

They kiss against Alex’s car after practice, Nicky giggling and feeling drunk with affection and the thrill of doing this somewhere they shouldn’t be. They more than kiss on Nicky’s couch and on Alex’s ridiculously large bed and in hotels during road trips.

But it’s not just the kissing and the sex that changes between them. There’s another shift, something more subtle. Alex spends more time at Nicky’s between games and practices, cooking him dinner or lazing on the couch, his head in Nicky’s lap while they watch movies. They’re a bit more tactile, with soft casual touches to the back of necks and the dips of waists. Nicky’s getting a bit lost in it all, how it all feels _real_ , like this is more than just the two of them fooling around.

One of their rare off days is spent at Alex’s, with Nicky getting there early in the morning to make Alex breakfast and with the two of them in Alex’s bed, Alex dozing softly with his head on Nicky’s chest while Nicky reads on his phone.

When it starts getting late, Nicky shakes Alex awake, whispering, “Hey, I should go.”

“You should stay,” Alex insists, pulling Nicky closer by tightening his grip around Nicky’s waist. “You never stay.”

“Why would I?” Nicky asks, laughing softly. He doesn’t intend it to be mean, exactly, or even sharp, but he still feels the sting of his words when he says them. They end up coming out a little sad, making Alex frown deeply when he looks up at Nicky.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Nicky doesn’t think he should stay, it doesn’t feel right with what they’re doing together. He wants to, God, he really wants to, but he knows that it’ll just make it even harder for him, make it feel even realer when he knows that it’s not real, not what he wishes it was. “I shouldn’t, Alex,” Nicky says, voice a bit thick. “We shouldn’t -”

“Shouldn’t what?” Alex says, voice angry. He sits up, sheets pooling in his lap and his brows furrowed deeply. “First boyfriend I have that doesn’t want to spend the night, Nicky. Always leaving like this is -”

“Boyfriend?” Nicky interrupts, jaw hanging open in surprise. “What do you mean boyfriend?”

“What, you think I just make dinner and cuddle on couch with every person I fuck?” Alex asks, voice deadpan.

Nicky opens his mouth to snap back, but then closes it, because it’s not far from the truth.

“Really, Nicky?” Alex says incredulously, actually jumping out of bed when Nicky hasn’t said anything. His voice is loud now but his face is soft with hurt not anger. “I lose game for you, I kiss you in locker room. Kiss you again. Have sex with you. _Date you_ , and you don’t think we are -”

Alex looks like he’s ready to collect his clothes in storm out, leaving Nicky alone like this isn’t his house. He’s mumbling to himself rapidly in Russian, and Nicky doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he recognizes the face that Alex makes when he’s thinking, trying to figure out the next play or diagramming formations for practice.

“Alex,” Nicky says softly, trying to get his attention. His mind is racing still, but he knows he has to say something.

It doesn’t seem to be enough to get Alex’s attention, so Nicky repeats his name louder. “Alex! Alex listen to - dammit Sasha,” he snaps and that’s what makes Alex freeze until he’s the one staring in surprise.

“Never call me Sasha before,” he says weakly.

Nicky feels the heat rise up to his face, but he tries to keep his composure, saying, “Alex, come here please,” and it’s not enough to get Alex climbing back into the bed next to him.

“Did you really not think we were dating?” Alex asks, sighing deeply when Nicky shakes his head. “Nicky if you don’t want -”

“No, it’s definitely what I want, Alex,” Nicky says. “It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, which is probably why I didn’t put it together, I guess. Too good to be true, you know?”

“Nicky stupid,” Alex mutters, like Nicky’s not supposed to hear, but he does, and all it does is make him laugh.

“Very stupid,” he agrees, bringing Alex in with a hand on the back of his neck. He lets Alex push him down on the bed while they kiss, lets him straddle his waist and leave a trail of hot kisses down his neck.

“Just to be clear, about to fuck you as your boyfriend,” Alex says, hand trailing up Nicky’s thigh and into his boxers.

“Oh my God, shut up,” Nicky says, his laugh swallowed by Alex’s mouth on his once more.

 

**+one**

The entire team is in high spirits after morning skate, everyone still hanging around the locker room even though the press is gone after doing morning updates. It’s infectious, almost enough so to quell the nervous twist in Nicky’s belly.

“Sure you’re okay with this?” Alex asks, bumping his shoulder against Nicky’s, and Nicky manages a smile in his direction.

“Okay as I’ll ever be, probably,” he says.

Alex nods, standing up and clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. The team quiets quickly, all eyes on Alex, because he’s their captain, and even if he’s a goof sometimes, they respect him, and that goes a long way.

“Nicky and I have important announcement for everyone today,” Alex says, and Nicky hopes he isn’t blushing too badly when the eyes turn to him as well. He’s still sitting on the bench, focusing more on getting his trainers tied than on what Alex is saying. “We would like everyone to know that Mama and Papa are finally actually Mama and Papa.”

“ _Alex_ ,” Nicky hisses, punching Alex’s thigh, but he’s laughing, unable to help it because of the laughs going around the locker room and the large grin on Alex’s face.

“Are you guys getting a baby?” Tom asks, excited, and that only makes Nicky laugh harder.

“No, we’re just dating, Whip. Don’t think we’re quite ready for a baby yet.”

“Oh,” Tom says, deflating a little, before grinning warmly. “Congrats, though, that’s awesome.”

“I’m confused,” Andre says, looking between them. Judging by the looks on a few other people’s faces, he’s not the only one. “Were you not dating already?”

“Were for long time, yes,” Alex says, nodding almost solemnly. “But Nicky didn’t know, so wasn’t official until just recently.”

Nicky punches Alex’s thigh again as the laughter gets louder around them, but his grin is nearly impossible to hide.

They get more congratulations from everyone, handshakes from Justin and Richie, high fives from TJ, large hugs from Willy and Latts. Kuzy says something to Alex in Russian that makes him laugh loudly, a little red in the face, and Andre and Marcus don’t hesitate in hounding Nicky in rapid-fire questions in Swedish.

“How do you not know you’re dating someone?” Marcus asks, nose crinkling in confusion. Andre’s been overtaken by giggles it seems like, and Nicky rolls his eyes at both of them.

“Guess, I’m just not very observant,” Nicky says.

“Obviously. I’m pretty sure everyone here knew before you,” Andre says between his laughter.

When the boys start going back to their own thing, Alex comes back to Nicky’s side, sidling up to him and slotting them together like they’re always meant to fit side by side.

“Did that go alright?” Alex asks softly, wrapping his arm around Nicky’s waist and whispering right in his ear, breath warm on Nicky’s neck.

“Yeah, it was perfect,” Nicky says quietly, and he sneaks a quick kiss from Alex, just a small press of their mouths that’s over before anyone else has a chance to notice, but that still leaves Nicky dizzy with joy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are of course appreciated. Please come talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/sunshinexbomb) or on [tumblr](http://meanlarsaesthetic.tumblr.com) where I'm always open to take prompt requests!


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